


Red Snow

by AnAbsoluteClown



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Spoilers, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-11-08 18:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20840201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAbsoluteClown/pseuds/AnAbsoluteClown
Summary: What if like. The bad people were vampires and Sylvain was thicker than a bowl of House Gautier cheese gratin.





	1. Lost Boy

FE3H au no war or school but vampires? I just like Vampires a lot.

\---

The year is 1180, their group has just disband. The young heir of house Fraldarius clutches his blade and his throat. The night’s moon weighs heavy on his shoulder as he breathes heavy.

The creature appears as if it was once a member of staff, a fellow knight. To grab him when his guard was low, after he trusted his knights, them especially, as they have fought along eachother for some time. The world has found a new low to displease Felix.

When did they turn? How long have they hid? This is what bothers the heir, as they seem to have awareness of what they’ve done. Pride. As if it was their plan to come at his throat. It fills him with rage, to be betrayed once again. Even after all his attempts to detach and steel himself. He cannot trust even his own knights! Through gritted teeth, Felix hisses to them, “I’ll have your head for that.”

Frigid air feels as nothing, the cold locked outside from the world. In the ballroom of his home, he stands with blade drawn. He’s not seen an attacker like this for a long time. One who using fangs and claws, but with the past scourges ravaging the land he should have expected some change.

“I’ll make you regret coming here.” Felix threatens to the beast, who barely forms a sentence back. It’s words an incoherent mess. Gripping the blade, he is able to dodge their sweep. He is much faster than any creature that may try their fate with him, as if he was a literal demon with the blade. He’s trained for this, he’s fought this kind before, though he’s never expected it from his own.

Luckily, through the sound of their clashing, and his effort, the beast falls. Disintegrating to dust on the floor of his home, as his silver blade sings from it’s triumph. He feels... Dread, though, instead of the usual elation from combat. All was for naught, as careful as he was, the ambush lead him bleeding from the throat. Though he could fend off his attacker, he could not save his own soul.

“Damn it.” He whispers to himself, alone with his fatigue as the blood drains from his body. This may be his very last day on earth. He closes his eyes, feeling light headed, and in his final moments he regrets for the last time not being enough.

-

It is the year 1185.

The cold air fills his lungs as he removes the saddle of his fine, equine beast. Sylvain Jose Gauthier seems to glitter in the rising sun, sweat dripping down his body as heat radiates off of him. Nothing is more refreshing then having a ride out in the cold air, something he found himself partial to.

He finishes setting Biscuit up with oats to eat, and cools off himself off. Luckily for him, he does not need to tend to the stables for it’s horrible order, there’s staff for that. But this said, he is no slob, and puts everything back where it is supposed to go. He may not be the best person to speak with, but he isn’t going to leave unnecessary work for others.

Upon entering his estate, he finds himself a bit overwhelmed. Before even speaking, an attending staff approaches him, “Your mail, my lord.”

“Oh? At this time of the day? Someone must be desperate.” He says chuckling to himself, accepting the notice. His humour falls on deaf ears as the servant seems more bored with his words than anything. They are all used to his love letters and death threats from women seeking his estate.

Out of the blue, a letter arrives. The parchment is a fine, waxy quality. The note itself seems to be thin, and lacking the usual scent perfume he receives from many different potential spouses. Letters he typically reads while laughing, having tea and thinking how disillusioned they may be to pursue him for his title alone. Forgetting to heed the warning of others.

This letter is different, it’s special. It is embellished with the crest of house Fraldarius. He lets out a breath he did not even know he was holding. A hope.. lights in his eyes, and he waves to the attending servant, “Thank you,” he says quickly, before heading off to read this in private.

It reads: “Dear Sylvain. Come over.” Attached is a map to where his estate is, obviously torn from a book and marked, as if Sylvain would have forgotten by now.

The words seem bland, and tasteless. The way Felix writes without any context or flavour text to go on makes Sylvain feel sligtly irrate. Perhaps he should come over! To waste so much time to hide away in his room, to read these scarce amount of text. Well, he feels silly.

And yet, the fact that after so long, after such silence between them, to receive a note. . It leaves Sylvain almost.. On his toes.

It has been five years since they have laid eyes on each other, when Sylvian Jose of house Gauthier received the invitation. The last time he saw them, was during the final group disagreement five years prior. Felix had left to do his own thing, furious with what decisions that Dimitri had made, and has not spoken to them since. Following that, the red haired cavalier missed all chances to reach out. He wanted to, but when will it ever feel right.

Without thinking, he begins to pack his things, alerting everyone of where he’s going. “It’ll be a short visit, if it’s something so important he had to write, I’m sure I’ll not be gone for long.” He says in encouragement to his family, to the staff who dread seeing him on a daily basis. Concerns begin to buzz around him. He began to nit pick, as he rushes through his things. Eagerness fills his heart like a jar of bees.

Which clothing to wear? He even suddenly grows concerned on finding a way to show off that he had bee actually training training? Wouldn’t felix Notice his efforts? Would they care? It’s been too long since he’s seen him, he wants to make a good impression. Maybe if he does, this correspondence will turn into a regular back and forth thing. They can talk regularly, speak like they used to as children. Build up the foundation of friendship they once had as children.

Sylvain mumbles to himself, as he packs. He grabs armor, and weapons. He thinks of bringing the silly love letters he’s read, or maybe something of Felix’s interest. The many notes are just a burden, “I don’t want to scare him away.” He whispers to himself, as he flips through pages. None of them matter, anyways. No amount of flattery or poetry will bring him out of his home like those four, poorly executed words.

Being... Slightly detached from his friends, as the heir to house Gauthier, he noticed the change without anything being said. His perception of the situation clear. Certainly, after the tragedy of duscar, he witnessed how his friends suffered. To lose so many in one instance shattered them. And yet, Sylvain was nearly unscathed from the incident. Close enough to watch the disaster, but far enough to detach oneself.

It was a huge change in their lives, when Glenn died, when Dimitri lost his parents, when everything went to hell. He remembers how quickly things had changed, especially with Felix. They were still a bit distant, as a child, preferring the company of the prince now loathes as opposed to Sylvains. But it wasn’t in a way he could feel jealous over. They were still witty, and sharp, but kinder. Easier to tears. Though the change was not the end of the world, and Syvlain had come to understand, he still feels a .. loss. He misses how his friends once were.

He misses them even more now, considering how he has not seen anyone for a long time. As he says his goodbyes to his family, Sylvain wonders how Felix has aged. Perhaps they grew taller, or wider. Or maybe, in the last five years, they changed their hair. He seems fascinated in thinking about how different Felix may be. Perhaps, by reaching out to him, Felix had too grown a desire to reconnect.

-

To rejoin his horse with his gear and suitcase. Rations and money for the trip. He sets out, almost two hours after he reads the letter. His thoughts have been consumed by Felix.

It’s not as if Sylvain had not tried reaching out first. He has tried many times, to all of them. Misfortune it may be, they had been busy.. As had he. Though, with Felix, it is a different case. Ingrid humoured Sylvain more than once with a visit, and he had been to Dimitri’s home on occasion to check up on him with his father. Nothing like before, though, where they played pretend on the field, or practised their foot work in the training hall. No, it was all different, but unlike with Felix, at least they tried to reach back.

Since their last meeting, much has gone on in Sylvain’s life, in those five years. Since the last time they met, there has been a rise from the remaining threat left over from his brother Miklan’s almost sudden, and demonic change. Sylvain had to be kept on his toes, sorting through the rot and rabble, trying to make peace in the land where he was left responsibilities he absolutely loathed.

Despite it being the error of his father, it had become his responsibility to fix the mess with the thieves and brigands following under Miklan’s banner. An uncomfortable situation for the aspiring noble, who understood and pitied his brother, despite their cruelty towards him. He only wishes they could have solved the problem, before it resulted in their demise.

“What ever even befell of Miklan.” Some have asked him. Causing Sylvain to feel a type of embarrassment and shame that he is used to after years since the incident.

“Well, the scourge, of course.” The Savant would reply, as if it was so matter of factly. And it was. Since the last five years, there had been a rise of a strange illness. Rumour states that it effects one’s ability to walk in the sun’s raise, suddenly giving them hyper sensitivity. They begin to lose common thought and senses. A thirst for one’s blood and carnage ensues, and makes people unstable.

Dear Milkan, outcasted years prior by their father, was one who caught such a condition. Their body twisted and turned into that of a beast, blood tainted and impure. He lost control, and began to eat those who lived peacefully in villages. His mercenary banner became one soaked in blood, and his title, the beast of ruin, scared the lands. It was tasked to Sylain to slay his own demonic brother, and fix the issues he had brought.. but the scourge did not effect Miklan alone. Since the tragedy all those years prior, pockets of it had popped up all over Foldan, as if the land tainted itself.

One now has to be careful of who they keep in company. Not that it matters much to Sylvain, who feels as if he has no one who truly knows him since all his friends departed. Perhaps that’s why, despite the ominous sense of the letter, he was so eager to ride out and see Felix. The memory of their cold face bringing a bright warmth to his heart.

The ride down took the usual amount of time. He can recall when he was a child, Glenn taking his horse up to the house Gautier to retrieve Felix’s little playmate. He can remember counting the minutes of the trip. Anticipation hitting him when he saw their home on the horizon, knowing he is about to have another fun and eventful week. This adventure of his feels much the same. Though it is long and quiet, he feels as if song has swept him. He still stops at all the same places, approaching on the same path he had taken.

They live so close. To think they, of all people, stopped talking despite the generally small in comparison in distance of their homes? He can’t even remember the last time they spoke, what it was about. It was probably something lacking any seriousness, and he knows their separation wasn’t a fault of his. It was more likely anger directed towards the king, if anything.

-

Being left alone to one’s thoughts for so long is so draining. Sylvain almost bored himself to death as he spoke to Biscuit about Felix, as the mare hasn’t had the chance to meet him as his others did, “You know, he’s an angry guy, but I can’t help but feel more myself around him. A friend like him, I don’t have to hide,” He calls into the horses ear, as they happen upon the home.

“There it is! As big and gloomy as I remember it. Come on!” He clacks his heels, and by the twilight of the evening, they ride off towards the home.

Nothing seems amiss as he rides up too. The usual guard posts are filled, the town before the manor is as gloomy as he recalls. His horse trots through, and he feels as he does. Well, except, unlike when he goes through his own towns, and across his own lands, he is not being gawked at here. Actually, as he makes his way through the town square and towards the manor that looms over, he notices people averting their gaze.

It’s actually kind of nice? To not be stared at, hundreds of eyes being burned into him. He almost doesn’t question it, at least he doesn’t remark it out loud.

He removes himself from Biscuit, to climb the rest of the way to the manor. Guards let him pass with so little as a greeting, their glum expressions hardly noticed by the eager man. He takes her to the stables, before clearing his way to the door. There he is met by the stable master, who peers over at him with a bit of a shock.

“Sir Sylvain,” The stable master says, arms open as he walks over to greet the man. They clasp on the sides of his shoulders, greeting him.

Of course, Sylvain echoes back, his voice cheerful, as it vibrates the stalls, “Gowell! How’s it going old man, It’s been a while.”

Such words result in the pinch in the cheek, a grumble. “I’m not that old yet. Anyways,” He grabs the reigns from Sylvain’s hands. Bringing Biscuit to be tied down in a safe manner, “What brings you here? Had Master Rodrigue sent for you?”

“Nooo?” Sylvain follows, going to his mare and removing some of his riding gear, such as his silver lance, as well as his packed goods. It’s nice to not be on the horse for a bit, he was beginning to grow sore in the hips, “I got this letter, from Felix.” He says, looking around as he pulls it out.

The flimsy note flap in his hand, the crinkle loud enough to make his horse eager enough to try to bite it. Smart enough, though, he places his hand to their snout and pushes it away as he backs up. “No, noo.” In his lack of seriousness, he did not notice the sudden grim befalling of the stable master’s face.

When he had snatched the letter back, he finds himself looking at a man that looks torn and confused. “What, what is it? Is Felix okay?” He asks, a slight strain to his voice. He had come all this way, the letter was in his hand writing. He has to be okay.

“No, Master Felix is fine.” The horse master reassures, though the discomfort does not leave either of them. “He just may not be back yet, is all. How about, you head inside, so I can help place your horse.” The man says, eager to be rid of Sylvain as most people tend to be. The begin to rush off, away from the horse that was tied, to ‘set things up’.

That... did NOT brush Sylvain the way he thought it would. It left him with more questions than answers. Why would they react in such a way if something wasn’t wrong. He doesn’t know, but it does make him eager to go into the main hall and see what has befallen his best of friends.

-

Entering the stable was easy, however by the door, two guards had stopped him, and asked what business he had. Typical Fraldarius fashion. “What business do you have here?” They asks, not on the offense as they would be. The house is aware of what a member of the House Gautier would appear as, and Sylvain had not changed much in the last five years.

He stands in the lobby with his hand on his hip, and he holds out the letter, “I received this from Felix Hugo Fraldarius, and came immediately.” He tells them, which causes them to look at eachother. A paleness in both their faces, as one moves to take the letter.

“We see. Stay here with him, I’ll be back.” One says, as he enters the home swiftly. Leaving Sylvain out with the other guard.

The heir of house Gautier seems to feel a bit on edge now, since everyone who hears the mention of Felix’s name grows pale and runs off. That’s.. Not exactly something that would indicate ‘all good’ like he had been promised. Actually, it makes him a bit queasy. Nothing bad.. could have fallen upon Felix, could it? It’d take an army to take that guy down...!

He decides to try to pry with the guard, asking, while the other goes to speak with the master of the home, “Is there.. something going on I don’t know about?” He asks, looking at them.

They are quick to their words, as if knowing how to lie to him. “No, nothing out of the ordinary. We just were not informed of your invitation.” They say, standing awfully straight, and not truly being able to make eye contact. However this ‘nothing out of the ordinary’ has Sylvain feeling three times more doubt than he did when he first received the letter.

“Is that so. Well, I’m looking forward to seeing him, as it’s been a while, and he’s ignored my letters.” Sylvain says back, waiting for a reaction. Outside of the guard tensing, and looking away, nothing is said. They’re being awfully tight lipped about his dear friend! He gets the sense though that No amount of leaning or suggestions will pry a word from them. Typical Fraldarius knights.

When the other returns, he returns with the letter no longer in their hand. He looks at Sylvain, a lot calmer than when he took the note, and says, “You may enter. Lord Rodrigue is in the sitting room, do you recall where that is?” He asks, knowing Sylvain’s had a run of this place many times.

He nods, “Of course. I’ll go right ahead.” And he enters, pushing past the guards and entering. The building is warm, but there’s something a bit off about the ambience of it. The grand foyer still has that larger than life painting of the current Fraldarius family, from years ago when Glenn was still alive. A painting Sylvain knows Felix detests. He walks to the left wing, on carpets so plush and unused by the family. It appears to be a bit darker in here than he can remember. The curtains cascading down from the ceiling still the house’s typical dark blue, but they feel thicker, and they seem to cover the extent of it. It makes navigating a bit awkward.

-

It’s good to hear that Felix’s old man hasn’t quit out on him yet. The man is sitting by a fire, warming the hearth. He seems older each time Sylvain sees him! They hold the letter with a troubled look on his face.

That fades as Sylvain trots in, looking eager to find out what's up. "Hey, Sir. It's been a while. Is Felix around?" He asks with a level of casualness that he can rightfully claim. Felix is his best friend, after all. Why be shy.

It appears they snap out of their bubble, standing up to meet the gaze of the Gautier heir. His face is not of the same confusion of the stable master or guards. Hes more befuddled, "Ah, Sylvain. I'm as curious as you are. Felix has not returned from his post in the last few years. I do not know if hes returned, or why hes sent you this."

"You mean he's not here?" Sylvain asks with a whine in his voice. If Felix is not here, why send for Sylvain. 

"No, I'm afraid not, and I doubt sending him a letter will do." Rodrigue shakes his head, as he rises from his seat. On the section with the map he circles a smaller town, just a short trek south. "He should still be at his outpost down south, dealing with the brigands and aiding the town. He's been there for some time, but never around when I visit. Do you mind telling him hello for me?" He asks, sincere. He does wish he could connect to his boy, after all.

"Y.. yeah. Of course, I'll get on it. Thank you!" Sylvain bows, and doesnt ask for much else. If felix isnt here hell just have to go to where he is. Even if he has to shake Felix awake from arriving so late at night.

-

End of chapter one I'll keep writing as I feel.  
First fanfiction written and no one to proof read :(


	2. Peaceful Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain finally gets there

From his tower, he could see a suspicious figure moving through the trees. He slips from his seat, and down through the window. Before hitting the ground, his body mists, preventing painful impact. Having honed his abilities, he finds himself loving in his new form, as opposed to the disgust and rage one might expect. 

No longer needing to worry about horses, he dashes into the woods. No torch is needed, no hunting hounds. His senses have evolved past that of an animal. 

The figure smells not of a human, causing Felix to grimaces. Sometimes they’re stupid enough to grow close to his home, perhaps out of desperation. He will not let another down, no, he is determined to keep his small alcove safe from this blight.

They do not even have a chance: does anything, anymore? The lessor creature’s head pops off and rolls through the grass before it could even see him coming. 

_Pathetic._

Black sludge slips off his blade, dripping into a small puddle at his feet. An undesirable stench, nearly dissuading him from his hunger. He kicks at the decapitated corpse, making sure the body doesn’t rise again. Many of these undead thrall have no point to him. Bodies being pushed by some force, wielding their blade. Who do they think they are, coming into his territory? As much as a threat they could pose to the people of the town, they cannot even hold a candle to him any longer. 

He cleans his blade on their shirt, kicking them again. This time, out of impatience. He was hoping for a mercenary, or someone he could consume without much forethought. Instead it was one of these ilk. Well, hopefully on his walk back he may find some one to eat. He cannot go too long without someone to drink. The only crux to his new form.  
-

It is before dawn breaks that the morning crew enter the tower. It is made up of a few local members of the community, working as a guard force for the town. The job for them is easy, and they spend most of their time training or reading up on battle techniques. Felix wouldn’t consider them professional knights, but they will do for the task given. 

More importantly, they do not bother him. Once he says his good mornings, and gives his report, he is able to descend to the basement of the building. 

After his illness struck, stopping his breaths and changing his skin, he found refuge in this tower. Its impenetrable round walls, and thick stone. No light comes in without warning; only windows for look out and archer posts soak in the light. It also comes as well with a cellar. Exactly what he needs, cold and dark, perfect for rest. 

This is where he now resides; Behind the double wooden doors before his bedroom which was once crafted to keep provisions safe from rodents. It does not even allow for even a breath of air to escape. Its lock is thick, and iron. He has the only key.

The room he enters is well kept, as he is not one to be untidy. A large bed lays behind curtains, and by it’s side is his night table. The wall is adorned with a few decorative swords. 

Across from his bed is a writing table that he rarely uses, his guards' mission reports stacked in a neat pile accompanied by letters from his friends and father. The waste bin by the table must be the only messy part of the room, some of his letters he tore in two, unable to throw away. 

He sits by his desk, looking at the stacks of paper. Writing to Sylvain.. Makes him think of what he’s received. He has not had it in him to throw them away, as annoying as that is. So he keeps them sorted, neatly, in piles by the person. 

It is far too irritating to write back to his family. He dreads to also respond to his friends. Their letters countless and overbearing.

His Father writes to him so plainly, it almost feels as if they are trying to rekindle a friendship that wasn’t there. They are about duty and the family’s usual responsibilities. He’s not Glenn, and he will never be Dimitri. It’s not his job to make the man feel better. The only time he responds is when it’s absolutely necessary. 

So far, his Father does not know what he’s become. He doubts his father has any kind words about it. 

The second smallest stack is from Dimitri. Dimitri used to send him letters. Out of all his friends, his Father has told Dimitri the address. Not that he visits.

The letters are almost always as formal. They usually come stating how he is glad Felix is doing something that he likes. They usually end with him offering his hand to the man. It is no secret that Dimitri had longed to rekindle their friendship. . And for his friend to come and serve his side as his shield. Felix would soon rather spit on the man than accepting the beast’s invitation.

A strange sentiment seeing as they share similar blights. He, however, will never put himself low enough to be like that of a beast. Even as he is now, he sees his illness as superior. He has control, he has the insight on how to use it properly. For him, it is no longer a problem. No, it is a gift that has been given to him. It has made him stronger than Glenn. As he is now, he is an unbeatable swordsman... 

A Talented Swordsman, by night. One who is now stuck in isolation, just as Ingrid’s letters would warn. Since his move, he had not seen or responded to her. They come when his father’s letters tend to. He doesn’t doubt she has no clue to his current residence. Her letters always carried warning, and got angrier as he refused to write back. The last one was a year ago, a simple written apology. Her letters are the smallest of the bunch, sitting stuffed in a corner collecting dust.

The largest stack, somehow, is Sylvain’s. Sylvain’s letters are by far the strangest of the bunch. It is as if Felix needs not to reply to them from how they are written. Like Dairy entries that arrive like a monthly news letter... As if Sylvain thought Felix needed something to read. 

Once a month, a letter will arrive, redirected by his father’s courier. No one told Sylvain the proper address, it seems. The letters were always long, at least a page, and it covered all the grounds of what was going on: Who Sylvain saw, what girls were around, the fights he fought, the hunting he did, the changing of the season... Mundane things. 

That’s what drew Felix to inviting Sylvain, that among other things. Sylvain was no stranger to the idea of keeping contact even if there was no response. He kept his friend updated on his life, wanting to make it feel as he wouldn’t miss anything. It was like he waited for Felix, and was going to keep waiting.

Now it is Felix who waits.

-

How obnoxious, Sylvain thinks, that no one thought to give him this proper address. According to his talk with Rodrigue, Felix has been stationed down south for, like, ever. It would have been a little bit decent of everyone to maybe even just send him even a map. He probably would have visited sooner! 

Luckily, he had Rodrigue circle where on the map, and was given the pleasure of sleeping over before having to head out. With his resources restocked he was ready to find Felix in the morning.

With his stuff packed and ready, he prepares to head out. It is then when he’s approached by the good Lord Rodrigue once again. The man following him out of the courtyard, a few things in had. “Pardon me, Sylvain,” He begins to say as he approaches the man who is already got the reigns of his horse. This causes him to stop in his place and listen, a typical faux smile on his lips. “Since you are already headed to see him, would you mind just bringing him these? It will save my courier the trip.” He says as he holds out a basket.

What is Sylvain but a glorified delivery boy. He takes it and more or less peeks without discretion at what lays inside. A letter and some sweets covered by a warm cloth. The man nods, and laughs a bit, “I guess, since I’m already heading down there. It’ll be no trouble at all.” 

“Thank you, you were always good to my boy,” The lord laughs himself, as Sylvain’s joy is a bit contagious. It is nice to have the youth around once more. He waves the man off. Watching he who walks out of the courtyard without much concern, “Farewell, safe travels.”

-

Both the man and his mare make it out of town before he climbs aboard. Curious hands begin to open the bag of sweets that were promised for Felix. He gobbles them as he begins to ride out, having a bit of a sweet tooth. He is also aware that Felix would actually be angry if he had received the treats. It is Dimitri who likes sweets, not him.

One should feel bad for Biscuit the horse. The horse is subjected to Sylvain’s tales of Felix. The last time they saw, the man was hardly an adult. He is eager to see how he’s grown. 

“Imagine if I arrive, and he’s got a beard the size of your tail?” He jests, knowing the Fraldarius family is not known for their locks. “Or maybe he’s grown his hair out, I wonder if he wears it down like his father.” He says, delighted by the thought of Felix with longer hair. 

Eagerness hits him like a hammer. It makes the ride pleasant despite the cold. He begins to tell the horse about Felix’s interests, his swordplay. About how he used to enjoy training with them and then dragging them around after for a meal. Since the incident only Felix has not treated him any differently he had before.  
The ride cuts into the late evening. The sky paints the landscape orange, some fresh snow on the grown glowing from it’s hues. The cold allows him to see his breath as he rides out.

It is dusk when he arrives in the secondary location. It is much larger of a town than he anticipate; The view of it is not viable from the forest he exited from, with decent walls crafted for wars of the past. It has a large round tower that overlooks the town, the walls surround with two battlements. There is no draw bridge, though, the town is located on dry land, however there is a largish entrance that awaits him. 

He can also see the spires of a church, overlooking the rim of the walls. Candle lights from the window allow it to glow, matching the colour of the sky. 

It is very quaint here, and much larger than he anticipated for Felix. The man being a lone wolf does not like company, so to live in a place this large is a bit shocking to Sylvain. 

He continues to admire the infrastructure as he disembarks from his horse. This is when something catches his eye, from the tower he sees what appears to be a black blot scaling the walls. Shock leaves him, and he exhales loudly, nearly frightening biscuit. He pulls her along, and tries to get a better look, but whatever inky figure he saw is gone. Perhaps a trick of the mind for riding so late. 

“I need to get some rest.” He complains to his horse, who shakes her head in disapproval. They head to the stable, located at the entrance of the town, to put her away. 

-

Arriving at the stables is when he sees the first villager. “Hello... Hellloooo?” He calls out, looking around the barn. From within the house, a typical horse handler pops open his window. 

“What are you doing out so late, young man.” He says, in a scolding way, causing Sylvain to blink. 

Well, the man looks well equipped enough, so he announces, “I’m looking for a place to board my horse. I have received invitation to the guards tower?” He sounds a bit confused himself in saying it. 

The stablemaster closes his window, the sound of the window’s wood locks and he makes way to the door. He stands by the door, his younger daughter clutching his leg despite his shooing of her. “Are you a knight of some kind?” He asks. 

Sylvain looks down at his shoes and back up to the man, “I am. Why? Is something the matter?” He offers, generously. 

The man places his hand on the child’s head and pushes her inside. He does not wish her to hear his concerns. He has noticed that Sylvain does not have a special something on him, “These lands are cursed, stranger. You make leave your horse here, but you should leave the moment you can. And, It is best you take this.” He says as he comes out to hand the man a silver necklace bearing the crest of Saint Seiros. A test, to see if he burns at her touch.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” Sylvain sounds a little surprised by the gesture, but he’s not going to say no to free stuff. “Here.” He offers back his pay, and then the reigns, “I didn’t hear about a curse, but I should not be here long.”

Passing the test, the stable master takes the reigns. To think this outsider hasn’t heard of what has been happening to this land. . It is concerning, how little does the outside world know of the evils lurking in this world? He shakes his head, “It is none of your concern. May the goddess be with you,” He says, before shuffling along with the horse.

That... Was odd. But at least Biscuit is somewhere safe, Sylvain thinks. He pockets the necklace, and begins to make his way through town. It seems that the tower is on the opposite side from the entrance. Kind of a bad tactical decision, he thinks. It was clearly built a very long time ago, so he cannot be one to judge. 

He begins to take into notice the atmosphere of the town. It is eerie and quiet. The houses, made of stone and wood, seem to have all their windows shut even though it is hardly sundown. The stores have their doors shut. There does not even seem to be street lamps lit with candles, or lights on in ones home. 

The inn seems to be open, the soft glow inside. He makes a personal note of where it is. Even as kids Felix never let him sleep in his bed. Perhaps he was embarrassed? By now, Sylvain has come to accept he may have to find where he has to sleep later. However, with the bad vibe he is getting from the town, he wouldn’t mind sleeping in the guard tower with Felix! 

At the centre of the town is the only source of light. The only place so obviously opened and welcoming. It is The church of Seiros, and it seems to be occupied by much of the town. It is also the only who’s doors seem to be slightly ajar as he passes by. 

He comes close to the door and peers inside, where the candles warmth tickles his nose. No one seems to notice him peering in, they are too busy attending the sermon. The singing and chanting important to the people. Perhaps this place is cursed.. Not that it concerns him. He scans the room for his friend. When he does not see Felix within the crowd he presses on. There’s no point for him to enter there now. 

No one seems to stop him or talk to him as he makes way to the tower. A literal ghost town. He also does not see any guards out on the street at this hour. It’s like they all went home already. 

-

By the time he reaches the tower he feels as if the whole world just got colder. Is he nervous about seeing Felix again? After so long? Or is it because it looks abandoned at this side of town, haunted. He’s not afraid of ghosts and he’s not going to pass up his chance of seeing his friend again after so long. 

The doors are, remarkably, unlocked. He has to push his weight a little, but they enter with ease. The squeak of them echoes throughout the tower. It’s pitch black. The first floor seems to be a common room, at least he imagines it is. He sets the basket from Rodrigue down on a table as he tries his luck with a candle. There is no sound of footsteps running down to check on the invader, perhaps this place really is vacant. 

He isn’t one for turning around. Once the candle is lit, he can plainly see that people were here at least this morning. Some old cups of mead or water sit almost empty on the common room tables. A relief washes over him. He looks around, the ceilings are high and it’s cold as hell in here. It would do him good to start a fire after he found Felix. 

A thought returns to him, the inky blot he saw climbing the tower walls. With trepidation, he shifts the candle into his less dominant hand and pulls out his lance. Perhaps he should actually save Felix some trouble and check it out. What are friends for? Sylvain decides to scale the tower stairs and make way to where he saw the thing climb into the window. 

Luckily for him, he’s physically fit. These stairs are no match for him. Though they do squeak occasionally under the weight of his feet. He is not being particularly stealthy. 

It does benefit the other in the building though. Felix can hear Sylvain as he scales the stairs. The familiar scent of blood rouses him from his watchful guard. He grabs his blade, uncertain of who is stupid enough to climb his tower so late in the evening. He’s warned the guards a hundred times that they would only be in the way of him at night. Since they are under him employ, he knows it would not be them. It’s also not a beast. He knows it is human, as he grows hungry just from their stench. 

Last night he was unable to succeed in a meal. With this stranger barging into his new home.. It’s tempting to have a bite. He swears to Seiros if it’s another one of those yapping church goers he’s going to drain them clean. He does not care at this point, as he’s asked them to leave him alone a hundred times. He does not care, even if it gives away his current condition. 

It’s a quick, solid dance. Sylvain opens the door, peaking into each room. When he opens the door to the top of the tower, a sword jets out, nearly knocking him down the stairs. He’s thrown to the wall, his lance flies up to cling the metal together causing him to drop the candle. The range prevents either of them to do any serious damage in this dead of night. Suddenly the stairway is only lit by moonlight. 

Impatient, Felix kicks the door. It quickly swings open now, as the hunter checks his prey. They stand on their heel boots to the same height they’ve always been, rearing in for another pierce. The whites in their eyes visible, though, as they lock with their friends. His senses come to him, and he lowers his blade.

_“Sylvain..”_


	3. Meeting in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain and Felix talk to each other in the dark. I'm posting this one a little early because I was eager to write it

“Wow, what a way to greet a guy.” Sylvain opens up with a startled laugh, as if his life wasn’t in danger. Though he is uncomfortable being backed into a corner on the stairs, he’s actually rather collected. He lifts the pointed blade away from his direction with the head of his lance. This is not entirely surprised that this is how Felix greets him. 

A darkness swallows the room thanks to the absence of the candle, making it difficult for Sylvain’s eyes to adjust. With the lights out and Felix having the higher ground, he appears to be almost tall and threatening! However, even in this darkness Sylvain can tell this is his friend. They have the same shape they did five years prior and the same sword handling stance. From all their years of clashing training sword together it’s been burnt into Sylvain’s memory. Felix also hadn’t struck him yet. 

Who else would resist stabbing Sylvain? 

They stand there in an awkwardness of silence. Felix has the vantage of light, to see how his friend has grown. It catches him in the moment. Those vacant orange eyes stare without blinking as they soak in their sight. Sylvain really heeded his word and arrived. He stands without making a word as he assesses the situation. Sylvain did come here to see him on the night he feels his worst. A night where he needs to feast.. Or someone in town will go missing. 

They both of them waiting for the other to move. 

This caution begins to wear on Sylvain’s nerves. Felix has always been on edge, but for a moment Sylvain wonders if this is because that inky blot he saw outside could be something that got within. Such a situation is usually seen closer to the house Gautier territory, thanks to Miklan’s treachery. Has it reached here too? 

“Well?” Sylvain asks Felix to put his blade away. Tapping the metal of their two weapons together. He wont put his lance back until the sword is stuffed away, he knows better. 

Felix scoffs as he rolls his eyes. The blade goes through a fancy hand motion before being inserted back into its sheath. Not being one for eye contact, or wasting time, he turns his heel and heads deeper into his guard post. 

The vampire has planned this far in his head. If he’s not going to stand around, he will sit. He paces towards the window in a slight dramatic way. Having eyes accustomed to the dark means he is aware of his every movement. Now that he is ‘in charge’ of this place he finds himself standing proud. His walk to the window ledge is confidence... At least until he realizes it was all for nothing. 

Annoyingly, he notices Sylvain clamouring for his candle on the stairwell his impatient voice rings out, “Are you just going to stand there?”

“As much as I’d like to.” Sylvain almost gives up on the candle. It had wedged itself under a step, and he is able to reach it. What is with the dark and broody atmosphere? Perhaps Felix doesn’t wish to waste resources and just turn on a light? There’s no reason to be in a room so dark. 

“Don’t light that, we don't need it.” Felix warns Sylvain. Looking at the candelabra in his hand. Had he really become so accustomed to the dark he can see in it just fine? It wouldn’t surprise Sylvain, considering how much like a cat Felix was growing up.

Sylvain has to feel his way to the window, his eyes no where near as talented. With arms stretched out he looks from wall to wall. It is like a cave in here, he thinks, as it seems the moon pouring in their only source of light. It’s hard for his eyes to adjust to this. How is Felix supposed to work like this? He wonders.

As he ponders about Felix’s work ethic the knifey man sits down by the outpost window. Their cape flipped behind them as they sit with one leg on the window, sort of crossed, the other stretched out. 

The window is unusual to Sylvain as well. It’s thick like the walls so it is easy to sit on, but from what he can see there’s a lot of small scratches in the stone. The perch is also missing torches on either side and any sort of spy glass or tool to see in the distance. 

“So, are there any lights here at all? Or, wait, don’t tell me. This place didn’t come with those.” He asks as he grabs what he hopes is a chair and drags it to where Felix sat so that he can stare out the window with him. The forest looks clear and empty To Him. To Felix it could be another story. 

“I don’t need lights. If the tower is lit, you can’t see into the woods.” He says with a huff. Looking from a bright room into a dark area is always harder. The glare is more sensitive with his new vision. He finds the flames make it harder to see. He only uses it when he has company. Sylvain should, however, be more used to his niches than the overly concerned townsfolk. He shakes his head, further explaining, “I prefer if people also think no one’s here.”

That doesn’t sound right. Why would he wants a vacant guard tower, Sylvain asks himself. That would make the town look defenseless. Or perhaps.. He slaps his hand into the palm of his other. He understands, “So you’d have something to do when someone invades?”

“Precisely.” Felix almost smiles, though his face ever blunt. Like the rest of him. The way their lip upturns slightly has always been exciting. Being the kid known to never smile. With this though he looks much younger... Even if tt seems that those frown lines have crept up to Felix’s face and built a home there. Ingrid warned him of that. Keep a face in one spot forever and it’ll get stuck. 

Sylvain finds himself drawn in. If it’s been five years since he last was in contact with anyone of his friends, then.. When was the last time he laughed? Or, actually, enjoyed anything. Felix is so rough around the edges that Sylvain doubts he was able to make any friends here. Back when they were kids he had it much easier..

It’s surprising to both of them that Sylvain actually didn’t ruin that small moment. Normally by now, as a joke, Sylvain would offer Felix some time in town to meet a few girls! He knows the other doesn’t want that though. They prefer the handle of a blade to a hand of a maid. 

Instead Sylvain catches himself staring. He knows how Felix hates his eye contact but there's something different about how he looks now. He sits as he normally does, with legs partially spread and back leaned into the chair. Now that he thinks about it.. It’s been so long since he’s seen Felix but nothing seems to have changed. Perhaps his jaw is a bit thicker? More mature. His hair is shorter and he looks more exhausted. But that’s.. It? It seems like someone didn’t get their growths spurt. Something he knows not to jest on unless he wants a fancy new scar. The more he thinks about how little he’s changed, the happier he seems to be. To Sylvain it’s actually nice that nothing has changed. He could go for some good news and consistency. Seeing Felix does that for him.

As they sit in silence Sylvain got his chance to think. They have been apart so long and yet despite how cold Felix is Sylvain feels a warmth from him. The staring would be a lot easier and less awkward if he could see, though. A soft chuckle leaves Sylvain, “Well I think it makes it harder to get a decent look at you. Mind turning on a light, just for me?” 

“Mind minding your own damn business?” Felix echoes back. He’s as harsh as ever too. That’s also a no on the light then. Many of Sylvain’s speculations will have to be up to his imagination. 

Felix isn’t even looking at Sylvain anyways. Even if they’re so close to him. He has those eyes are out the window as if there was a show going on. He’s diligent, trying to scan the forest for threat, but it’s become increasingly hard to focus on a nights hunt when his best friend is sitting by him living and smelling as he does. It’s almost maddening. 

Despite Faerghus’ cold air he can sense the heat radiating off their living body. His now fine tuned ears can count Sylvain’s breaths while his own chest lays empty. He can smell their blood pushing through their veins. Would Sylvain, of all people, chastise him for wishing to have just one bite? 

There is a bit of a pause as Felix’s own thoughts mortify him. He cannot believe he would wish to inflict pain on Sylvain. 

It becomes awkward now, this crestfallen silence. For two who have not seen each other in so long there is so little to talk about. While Felix keeps his ‘eye out’, Sylvain allows himself the pleasure of soaking in his moonlit friend for well over ten minutes. Occasionally his eyes drift from the outside to each other, both having troubles in finding what to say. 

After enough silence, Sylvain sees it as fit to ask what comes to mind. He’s used to leading conversations. Sylvain does begin to pry. “So, Felix. Why did you call for me all out of the blue?”

“Do I really need a reason?” His nose wrinkles, he eyes Sylvain with a bit of irritation. The question sounds stupid, does he need a reason to see his friend? Even after five years of silence? There is one; but with how overwhelmed Felix feels he does not have the urge to bring it up.

There’s another bit of a laugh from Sylvain as he feels nostalgic. Are they arguing or just dancing around topics? “Well, I don’t know? After five years I would have liked one.” He reflects for a moment when Felix has no answer. The lone wolf looking pointedly out the window. It’s like they’re searching the woods for a reason to call for Sylvain outside of just missing him. Sylvain himself begins to search for that reason, and he continues to speak, “This town seems a little over the edge on something. Did you call for me to help?”

Felix clenches his teeth. Does Sylvain take him as someone incompetent? He shakes his head and shoos that thought away with the back of his hand. Dismissing that he needs help, of all things. “_No_ I already have everything handled. I don’t need your help.” 

Felix must be right. If this job wasn’t an easy one why else would he be alone in the tower? To have one person man the tower at night does help queue Sylvain’s concerns. Even if he thought he saw that shadowy blob earlier. With Felix all fine, it must have been a trick of his eyes. 

The response leads to one possible answer which will be Felix’s new born chagrin. Sylvain comes closer, teasing his friend as he had done a hundred thousand times. His gloved hand pats the shoulder of his friend and he leans in. Felix can practically hear his knightly friend’s heart race as he practically shouts, “Aww! Did you actually just miss me?” 

Embarrassment should have hit Felix’s cheeks and ears. As they’re both used to. Instead, Sylvain is shoved back by the other’s hand, a bit more forceful than he was used to. With this added force, Felix does look over. Shocked with himself. “No. I did not.” He says a bit angry with himself. It’s actually hard to tell in this moment whether or not he is mad! 

Luckily, Sylvain’s used to upsetting people. He can see in the softness and concern of Felix’s eyes when they make contact that he did miss him and this shove was not intended to be so aggressive. “Ouch, hey there. Don’t damage me too much, I still haven’t found a wife.” A jest to make the other understand he too isn’t mad, and this is all okay. It’s okay that he was shoved for overstepping Felix’s boundaries. After so long they still do not like to be touched.

Felix grunts and returns his gaze out the window his legs crossed on the ledge of it. He does not have much to say despite having planned this through. Before Sylvain arrived he had much to talk about, much to explain. Thinking and planning words and actions though fall short. It’s much harder to concentrate on what he wanted to get across from his friend when he smells so ripe and delicious. Felix is more angry with himself than ashamed for his lack of control even if it hasn’t bubbled to the surface. 

“Well. That’s more than enough for me to stay a few days. And who knows, maybe I’ll come in handy seeing as you’re the only one working.” Sylvain rambles. He does want to be put to good use as well as hang out and slack on the job. Perhaps Felix missed the lax nature of his friend; always slowing him down, yet, always pacing himself. 

How irrational. Felix had just told him he does not want to put his friend to work. If Sylvain didn’t have such a big heart, he would have been able to crush their need to help. “I can’t stop you. Just don’t get in my way.” Felix grumbles even though the idea of Sylvain hanging around delights him. They are only but only a few days travel from the Gautier estate, so Sylvain could leave if he so pleases. 

Don’t get in his way? That can’t be too hard despite how rusty he must be over the years. Sylvain agrees with an eager nod, “That can’t be too hard. The place seems like a ghost town. Is there even any fun to have during the day? What’s the food like. Are there any cute girls hiding around?” He begins to chatter, filling the room with conversation. 

“I don’t know. It’s a night job, I don’t see a point in going into town.” It’s already bothersome enough that they come here. To have so many poke their heads in and bother him, with their necks exposed. He’s going to snap one day. As much as he’d hate to admit it.

A night job? That explains the bags under Felix’s eyes. His sleep schedule must be rough. “Sheesh. When I’m done unpacking I think I’m going to hit the hay,” he winks, “I’ll give you a rundown of what I see tomorrow.”

There’s a silence from Felix as he thinks. Sleep where? Here? When he’s trying to focus? He’s already starving from his failure hunt yesterday. He cannot risk Sylvain actually being harmed while he rests. He’s not as ready as he assumed he’d be. He shakes his head, no, “Where is it do you intend to sleep.”

“Well. It’s a guard’s tower. There’s got to be a few beds in here, right?” Sylvain asks as he leans in again looking more out the window. It’s a long way up, there has to be a few rooms!

Felix scoots back, creating distance. This is more frustrating than he initially planned. He didn’t expect Sylvain’s presence to be so overwhelming, “Absolutely not. There is one bed here and it’s mine. If you’re so tired go bother the inn.”

Only one bed? Sylvain recalls reading some literature like that. He smiles a bit broadly in a teasing manner. He’s already being a hindrance on poor Felix’s health, after all! “Oh what’s the harm in letting sleep on your bed? We used to when we were kids,” He says joyously as he reaches out to pat Felix.

There’s a sudden flash of steel illuminated by the moon. Felix begins to pull his sword out, causing Sylvain’s hand to snatch back. “Or actually, I passed by the inn on my way here. It looks really homely, I’ll go check them out for you.”

The blade returns into it’s sheath yet again. Felix, despite his prickliness towards Sylvain, finds himself enjoying this banter. After being surrounded by below par guardsman who he explicitly doesn’t speak to, it is refreshing to speak with someone he knows again. “Good. If you’re tired you should go now. The doors shut soon.”

“Alrighty then.” Sylvain says as he gets up by putting both hands on his knees. He’s forgotten all about items he has for Felix, as well as Felix’s father’s letter that sits downstairs. He can deal with that tomorrow. “I’m going to go have a long, long nap. I don’t think I’ll get up bright and early when you finish, do you want to meet in town?”

“No. We’ll meet here in when I start.” Felix would rather not go into town. Or be bothered during the time the sun is up. 

Understanding, Sylvain nods. He stands there for a bit lingering by his friend. Again he makes contact. He places his hand on Felix’s shoulder once more. For a brief moment there is a sincere look on Sylvain’s face. One that, perhaps, only Felix has seen. He’s lost in those warm eyes.. A genuine happiness, not hiding behind shallow works and demeaning jokes. In this moon lit night Sylvain’s hold being seems to glow radiantly, their body flush with joy. It’s enough to make Felix feel his lost humanity again. 

Sylvain speaks slowly, his words lacking hidden intentions, “I’ll see you then, Felix. I’m really glad to see you again.”

“Yeah.” Felix nods, he watches Sylvain lift their hand and move towards the door of this chamber. They grab the candle and light it, illuminating the hall as he descends. Once Felix knows Sylvain’s out of sight he closes his eyes. 

He wishes to burn the image of that smile to his memory.


	4. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thanks to my friend who is well versed in vampire stuff who Gives me Some facts

It was nice to actually see Felix again. Sylvain walks back towards the town’s center with a grin from ear to ear. It was worth the long ride. To see his hypothetical best friend after all these years, still alive and in the flesh. It was better than he had hoped. 

Sure, Felix hasn’t grown much, nor do they seem to have changed. But that’s just another added bonus to this all. Everything he likes about Felix is still in the right place. Their sneer, the forced prickly exterior... Felix hasn’t grown inside or out since he last saw him.. And Sylvain hopes Felix thinks the same. 

What also hasn’t changed is their bond. No amount of time seems to fracture the warmth and comfort Sylvain gets when talking to Felix. With their other friends.. There was a wall there. Sure, he has a thousand fond memories to think of when it comes to Dimitri and Ingrid. They have a special place in his heart, even if there was a lot of ear pulling and cheek pinching. It’s not the same as the bond he has with Felix, though. Someone he feels so comfortable with that he could almost drop his guard. Almost.

His fuzzy warm feelings keeps him lifted as he makes his way to the inn. The night sky has grown deep. Sylvain finds himself in a poorly lit road with no signs of life. The inn itself seems shut, the lights all off. Had he haphazardly wandered like the fool he pretends to be and forgotten the time? He doesn’t know. He does however try the inns door and gets no answer. What a pain.

Searching for any light that may be on he realizes to his luck the church door is still open. There is a faint light inside. Now, despite being a rich boy, Sylvain is not a stranger to sleeping on a floor. Sometimes if he wished to hide from Miklan he enjoyed a night tucked away in hey from the barn. Sleeping on a pew can’t be as awful as straw. 

Sylvain does not call out, favouring the idea of sneaking in instead. He enters and sees that the podium surrounded the statue of Seiros is faintly lit with prayer candles from earlier in the day. The church is eerie, the chandeliers are rather low. The windows are thick with stainless glass that has no particular image.. even the paintings are horribly ordinary and plain. Compared to some of the Churches he’s seen this is kind of pitiful. Who is he, though, to complain about a free place to rest. 

Sylvain sits down and removes his armour. His underclothes are luckily thick and comfortable to sleep in. He lays down, eyes closing, arms tucked behind his head. “Ah, this is nice..” He mumbles to himself as he begins to doze off. 

“It is, isn’t it?” A soft voice jingles which causes Sylvain to launch himself up out of his seat. He even yelps! It seems he has a visitor! A quiet woman with straw yellow hair and a very soft voice. She had watched the stranger enter, take his armour off, and lie down. The woman comes out from hiding off to the side, and it appears to be one of the priests. 

“Oh hey there! Haha.. Didn’t notice you. Uh.” Sylvain has never been this tongue tied when speaking to a girl before, moreso because she nearly made him crap himself. 

The woman approaches, a little giggle leaves her. She takes pleasure in scaring him. “Oh, I don’t mind. I’ve slept on these a few times myself.” She says as she runs her hand on the pew. Touching the softened oak wood as if it was a good horse. “My names Mercedes, I’m in charge of this church, for now at least. Can I help you with anything?”

Her glossy eye look does give him a bit of discomfort. Perhaps because he was caught sleeping where he shouldn’t be. After a few seconds he grows used to them. They’re not like the women’s eyes from home, perhaps she doesn’t know him. That’s a nice break. “I was just fixing to sleep here for tonight. I received a message from Felix Hugo Fraldarius, but he said there was no room in the tour when I arrived.”

Mercedes clasps her hands together, suddenly happy with the sound of Felix’s name, “Oh, you must be his friend Sylvain.” She says cheerfully, knowing of the name. Before Sylvain could have a hint of disappointment why, she tells him how she knows, “He asked me to send a letter for you, I’m so happy that it made it. He’s doing so much for this town but he hardly comes out of that tower.” 

His friend Sylvain. That’s got a nice ring to it. Felix’s best friend, Sylvain the knight. It’s much better than the title he has at home. It’s almost weightless. He smiles back, suddenly over the moon with this information, “Well I got it! I haven’t seen him in a while, so I was surprised when he sent it. He’s never been one to write back.” 

She sits herself down now from the pew over, listening to Sylvain. She seems to be very tender in her speech, “I was just as surprised. He’s always so tired before the day, and never comes by the church. It was a shock when he came to me in the garden. I normally have to climb the tower at night if I wish to bring him any news.” She sways her head from left to right, “Are you going to be joining him in helping this town?”

Felix said he didn’t need any help. Though, at the same time, that’s normal for him. Sylvain hums and thinks about it for the moment. It’d be nice to stay and help out for a little bit. He would actually love to spend time with Felix. Find out what he’s been up to for the last five years. “Maybe.” He says, to be cheeky, “But I don’t exactly know the towns history. His letter to me was very short and to the point.” Felix did just ask him to show up. 

Mercedes seems surprised when Sylvain doesn’t know. She taps his chin, “Well, he’s been here for much longer than I have. But I think the rumours started before he came by. The towns apparently haunted, though I haven’t seen any ghosts.” She says with a bit of a smile. It’s as if she’d like to see a ghost. 

“Haunted?” Sylvain knows Felix isn’t one to care about the spirits and everything. He doesn’t think they’d come out all this way to work guards post in a tower if there wasn’t some leverage. “Like.. Strange things happening in the town?”

“Oh, well yes.” She folds her hands on her lap, now looking away from Sylvain. “There used to be a lot of crime from beyond the walls as we’re at a trade junction. Sometimes we would find an abandoned merchants wagon, or people would report a group of mercenaries. Though, in the last few years there’s been nothing like that. Sometimes the guards find people petrified, but of course they’re just deceased. Sometimes they’re stuck in one position, their skin withered down to their bones. Other times they're tied up and bled dry like catches. The guards have been trying to find who's responsible for that..” She sounds as if she sees it a lot. Though it would make sense, tending to the church she must also tend to the dead they find.

Sylvain finds her a bit morbid. He sits there, shocked. It sounds similar to the issue in his own area.. But at the same time, different. Miklan wasn’t draining people dry. His desire for power corrupted him and made him into a beast that Sylvain could not recognize. Though the bizarre circumstances of his prey’s death does remind him of what the hears. 

Could Felix have called him because he caught wind of what Sylvain’s really been up to the last few years? Even if each letter he had sent was flourished and boring? He tried his best to use his mundane living to hide under the carpet the shame he feels fixing the family issue. 

“Oh, then probably.” He ends up saying even though he looks white as a ghost himself. He can’t help but be curious, even though he doubts it could be true. Sylvain scratches behind his head, “I mean, I’m already here.”

“Excellent~.” Mercedes sings, before standing up from the pew. “I’m so glad Felix sent for you. You can sleep here for tonight if you’d like, then, and hopefully we can find you a place tomorrow. I have a few more things to tend to, if you don’t mind me.” She says with a little bow. 

“Alright, good night, Mercedes.” He says as his goodbye, but she doesn't exactly linger around to listen. This town is really off putting and Sylvain was a bit taken aback by what she had confirmed with him. Perhaps it’s true. The only way to find out is to go around town and ask. It’s not like Felix will share without some gentle prodding.

He’ll ask around in the morning and then he’ll approach Felix. 

\---------------------------------

The moon hangs over him in a judgmental fashion. Criticizing him for his previous thoughts. To think Felix would find himself aching to bite at Sylvain’s throat. He has more self control than that and it’s not why he called him out here. 

His body groans as he searches through the woods. A desperate kind of hunger burns at his skin, similar to how the sun has begun to gnaw away at him. He has to find someone to drink from if he wants to even dare see Sylvain tomorrow. 

What was it that set him off so poorly? The way Sylvain’s still beating heart echoed in his ears, waiting to be claimed? Or perhaps it was the beauty of his pale outstretched neck that sang songs of depravity into Felix’s ear. Whatever it was, it was unnatural and uncalled for. Sylvain is more important to him than his family. To lose him to something he considered under control would wound Felix more than any sword or axe. 

He doesn’t want to have to give into these animal impulses either. Enough people have gone missing because of him and the darkness he fights. It’s why he desperately searches for a stranger. A life that’s meaningless in his eyes to fill his belly and keep him comfortable for the week to come. 

Through all the rush and panic he finds one. Smelling the ash from their camp fire, the smoke dwindling now as a group lays in their beds. Despite his choice of foot ware he is able to sneak through their campgrounds without even raising notice to the animals. Desperate, he climbs into the tent of one of these poor souls. 

Without a word he grabs for them, hand slapping to their mouth. Before they could even wake or scream Felix bites down on their jugular, draining them quickly. The warmth leaves their body as it enters his own, replenishing his state of mind. He has to resist hissing and grunting into their being, finding the meal to be more than satisfying. It’s slightly euphoric to take a life and refill his own. Felix figures it is the darkness of his condition overshadowing his common sense. 

He leaves them now, deceased and cold, their body shriveled. He cannot feel pleasure in the after effects of eating, knowing he’s the very beast the town asks for him to hunt. Before he can make any peace those keen ears can hear the sound of another get up, probably roused by the noises. Quickly he slinks from under the skirt of the tent, out to the woods. His ears ring as he hears the piercing howl of those who discovered his misdeeds, crying out for whoever he just plucked. 

He rationalizes it in his head. It is like a war, casualties happen. It just so happens that he caused this ending, despite not knowing their name or face. _ It’s like a war, _ his mind repeats.

Once safely away he climbs up the outer wall of the tower, returning to his perch. He’s out of breath from the time he returns, which, is unlike him. His chest and head swirl with some doubt now that he’s been fed. 

_ How is he going to make enough for the both of them? _ The though crosses his head. He clutches his chest even if his heart does not beat. A depressing weight falls off his shoulders as he pushes the thoughts away. He has not even told Sylvain the truth. That concern is far away.

He will have to find a way to tell him, wouldn’t he? Even when Sylvain first arrived all planned conversation flew out the window. No strategies seem to stay in motion. Though he is confident with himself and is used to working on his feet. 

He will find a way to confess to Sylvain.

\------------------------------------

The morning comes and Sylvain is awoken. His back feels stiff as a log from sleeping on the hardened oak seats. It looks like all his stuff is still where he left it. At the same time, the cute lady did not leave him a blanket or anything to snack on. Pushing his disappointment aside, Sylvain gets dressed. He doesn’t like laying in the same clothes all the time, but he’s not really feeling like being an exhibitionist today. He’ll change once he gets a room in the inn. 

Armed with the information he now knows, Sylvain decides to do his best and walk through town. Questioning everyone he meets on his way. He begins to swing by each junction, harassing the bread maker, the stablemaster, and anyone he sees fit for his words. He’s met with the strangest amount of non-compliance. 

His questionings were very plain, asking if anyone knew anything about the people who have gone missing, or about the husks in the woods.

The towns folk look at Sylvain as if he was barking mad. The man met with a rush of feet away, or a gentle Seiros blessing. Not one of them able to look him in the eye with his line of questions. It’s all put a bad taste in his mouth.

The only concrete information he could go on is what Mercedes told him. He’d ask her more but it seems in the day she seems to be missing as much as Felix is. The woman completely out of sight, probably tired from working so late. 

Due to how she was nice and helpful, he doesn’t try to stake her out. Instead, he decides to book a room in the inn before heading to the tower. He at least needs to be presentable for when he’s met with Felix again. He dislikes sloppiness.

The inn keeper is one of the most informational out of everyone in town, informing Sylvain that the doors lock after the night is full. He has to return before then when he gets back. He asks her, “Why is that?” To which she meets him with a distant gaze.

“Outsiders like you don’t last here long.” She mumbles as she hands him his room key for the night. Ominously, she does not answer anything beyond that.

\--------------------------------------------------

It becomes late afternoon.. And it’s much after his failures in searching out the town. Sylvain decides to try his luck with what he’s learned. He does remember vaguely Felix says he runs the night shift but where does the guy even sleep?

The only people who seem to know anything about him is that Mercedes lady and perhaps the guys working in the tower now. He approaches without any concerns, as it’s just a wellness check from a friend. Upon opening the double doors of the tower he can hear the sound of someone wailing. 

“You have to- You must do something. We were attacked in the middle of the night. My friend, I found him laying dead in his own blood!” They scream at one of the guardsmen as Sylvain enters the room. Their voice obviously hoarse, perhaps this conversation has been going on for some time.

There appears to be three in the room, two who are distraught beyond expression, the third hollering at the guardsmen who seem to clearly be not trained for this. “As we said we are looking into it-”

“That’s not enough. What do we tell their family?” They yell back, fury in their eyes. “What are we going to do? How do we explain this!”

“We are trying our hardest, please, calm down.” The guards speaker says once again. It seems like this back and forth has been going on for a bit.

This must be what Mercedes was mentioning, as well as the innkeeper. These folk don’t exactly seem like they’re from around here. A band of traveling merchants. With the harsh condition Faerghus is in, it’s not unusual for a mugging or a murder to happen out in the woods. Sylvain clears his throat, deciding to step in. “Well. What’s the matter here?”

The guardsmen seem to be surprised, caught off guard by this stranger assuming authority. And yet, relief hits them the moment the trio flocks to him, shouting their concerns, “We were just passing by in our caravan,” One of them hiccups, looking torn. “Our friend, he was sleeping in his tent, and something got him. I-It was like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Sylvain knows not to use the words calm down or relax to those so frantic. Thanks to his many years of slapped cheeks and deep scoldings. He reaches out and places a hand to their shoulder, consoling them. “I see, where were you all when this happened?”

This seems to work, like taming a horse, Sylvain thinks. They begin to compose themselves a little. Their voice still scratchy from screaming, “Just south of town.. We were following the main road but went off to the side for a rest. I’ve heard rumours this place was cursed I didn’t think it was the whole _territory_.” They whimper as they speak.

To the south of town. Last night. That could have been him if he didn’t arrive when he did. And clearly Felix could not have stopped it, being so far away from town. If he had been out there on his horse.. He could have helped them. “I see. Well, I’ll go scout it out. For now, you guys need to go get some rest and recuperate. I’ll have a word with the guy in charge to see what I can do for you, okay?”

This seems to do the trick. The three of them becoming less aggressive and more hollowed. Their heads bobbing like chickens. They begin to describe more of what they saw to Sylvain, who takes the information in. A black shadow, similar it sounds to what he saw in the tower. The animals immediately in panic the moment it left, their friend drained clean. Their skin now pressed firmly against their bones, hands stuck like stone in a position to defend themself. Any blood the beast missed collected at the man’s backside, leaving a stain of himself in the ground.

This all sounds bizarre. He wonders if Felix has heard the same. With the trio finally out of the tower, he looks to the attending guards. One sits down at a table, wiping their brow. “At least that’s finally over,” they say, exhausted. It’s a bit shameful, Sylvain thinks, that this is their reaction to another’s suffering, “Thank you.” the guard follows up with.

“It was no problem at all.” Sylvain says confident, placing a hand on his hip. He looks at the rabble and it seems to be as he expected. A few trained men and no Felix. “I’m Sylvain, A friend of Felix.” He says, leaving out his title for once. He’s starting to like the strange feeling of no one knowing who he is. He gives another sweeping look of the place before asking, “Is he around?”

“He’s in the basement.” One of the guardsmen says, shaking their head, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s awake after all that screaming. But, no matter how much we call for him when he’s down there, he doesn’t get up.”

Sleeping in? Well. The night shift must be hefty. Sylvain scratches at his cheek before asking, “I saw him last night, do you think it’d be okay if I tried going down there to talk to him?”

The guards look amongst each other. Not once have they really tried to bother Felix, as he terrifies them. So to see someone so... Professional ask such a thing? If anything they’d be more likely to ask Sylvain if _he_ would like to go downstairs to see him. “Sure. . We don’t have any issue with it.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Sylvain says so cheerfully. He’s eager still to see Felix. Maybe, if he’s lucky, they can go into town. Get something to eat, or even chat up some cute girls! Or just hang out, like they used to.

He heads to the basement. Once again he’s met with the dim light of candles. Being who he is, he steals one to light his way. There light almost fades as he hits the double doors. They’re thick and there appears to be a grand iron lock on them. Sylvain knocks first before trying to enter.  
When he hears no response, he calls, “Okay Felix I’m coming in.” And tries his luck with the door. Be it confidence, or forgetfulness, but Felix had forgotten for once to lock it. Perhaps the fact the guards never come down here became a thought too reliable. Or he was too consumed by his concerns of Sylvain to lock it. Either way, it is shut.

And dark as all can be. Sylvain’s eyes can barely adjust. There is not a sound as he enters the room, aside from his own breath. 

He’s first drawn to the writing desk, noticing the candle before the letters. Walking over to dip his candle to light another. It hardly lights up the room, but it does draw attention to notes with his own handwriting. Did Felix really keep all these...?

Oddly, he feels a deep chill as he does. A freeze so violent not even the coldest storm can compare. It tingles up his back, nearly giving his heart frost bite... As if he should not be down here.

Despite this he presses on as his determination to see Felix is overwhelming. There is something about being with them once again that makes everything about this feel right. If Felix didn’t want him barging into his room then why invite Sylvain in the first place?

With the light he can see that there is, in fact, one bed. Surrounded by curtains. He walks over to it quietly wondering if he’s not already woken Felix up. Once at it’s side, a hand pulls back the drapes so that he may look inside. 

In the bed there lays Felix, his eyes are partially open. Sylvain nearly jumps out of his shell before he realizes they’ve fallen asleep like this. All that night time staring must have affected him. Instead of closing the curtains, Sylvain decides to indulge in himself. Able to finally see his friend’s face without the shroud of darkness. How pretty he looks with his hair down and wild like black roots of a tree. Their body covered up to the chin in a thin sheet. 

Does he dare threaten to wake Felix up? He finds himself pressed with that question. It would be.. unfair. Look at him, falling asleep like this. They must be exhausted. He lingers his free hand, contemplating smoothing out their hair or carefully shutting their eyes. 

He decides not to, instead enjoying how handsome his friend has gotten over the years. Secretly enjoying how Felix has hardly changed, overjoyed that the good in his own life remains consistent.


	5. Curfew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doors close, buddy

It is still the same afternoon, Sylvain had yet to do much after seeing Felix. Having left sleeping Felix lie, Sylvain had began his self appointed mission. It’s only a few hours before his friend wakes up and he decides to use them to check out the scene of the attack. The guards were more than eager to give up such a job to a man they hardly know, figuring he would know what to do better than they would. He got the idea from them that they are not military equipped as Sylvain was more trained to be.

He collects Biscuit from the stable, “I’ll only be a bit. The guardsmen are having me do a little recon.” He says to the stable master, boasting slightly about his little promotion. 

Unlike before, he is met with a face of relief. The stablemaster nods to the knight looking man and produces a small key. “Just lock her up on the way back.” He says, fine with this gift.

It makes Sylvain feel a little bit warmer, despite Faerghus’ cold air. The towns folk may begin to warm up to him as he helps. Helping them also helps Felix.

He begins to prattle on to his horse, speaking to biscuit about his hopes as he rides. Maybe the town has the idea that Sylvain is actually here to work with him. The two working side by side again... It’s actually a welcomed thought. A break from nobility. He finds his ride to the crime scene to be that of rosey thoughts, truly Sylvain has begun to indulge on the idea of living and working with Felix. 

It wouldn’t be like home. 

Maybe he could even help out with the home care. He noticed the place was getting really dusty, the pantry barely had any food in it. Keeping a place clean is one of his more private hobbies. Though he likes to have such a roguish look to him, nothing is more annoying than a dirty home. He’s also a rich boy, he can easily fill that back up. The guardsmen all seem undertrained as well. He wonders if they have even dared to try and spar with Felix at all.

They probably haven’t, as Felix would decimate them, right? Sylvain has the capability of going easy on people. He doesn’t have to come out on top like his little friend, now does he.

“Speaking of little,” He tells Biscuit, “Felix has hardly grown an inch. He looks exactly the same, except he’s decided to dress a little nicer. He’s certainly aged, though. I don’t think he’s looked angrier. I could almost see a fire glowing in his eyes, oof, don’t want to piss him off.” He was wearing such nice tall boots. As well as a soft coloured cape. The cute little fur trim is reminiscent of the parka his friend once war as a child as well. Felix really has upped his game when it comes to clothes, he’s actually left Sylvain in the dust.

His mind wanders, trying to imagine what Felix’s outfit must be without the extra trimmings. They slept with their blanket up to the neck. How was he supposed to get a good look? He couldn’t just pry the blanket off, as much as he wanted to. He feels a little bit obsessed...! He cannot help to think about how handsome his friend is and despite his rage, they’re quite kind. It’s such a nice contrast to all those who give him attention. Felix wanted him here for himself and no other reason. Just to see him again. 

Sylvain wonders if he could stay. He’s tired of being apart. In this short horse ride he realizes more than ever that he needs to help Felix in this.. To prove that he should stay.  
He has to focus on the task at hand. 

The clearing where the incident took place was easy to spot. As he rode on the trail Biscuit suddenly raises up on their two legs and letting out a deprived winnie. They refuse to take even a step closer!

Sylvain removes himself from his mare, patting them till they calm before tying reigns to a nearby tree. He removes his lance from his holster and enters the clearing.

It’s ... not as bad as he thought. With the remnants of Miklan’s mess to the north, he was expecting the entire camp destroyed, or at least some disembodied limb. This is actually pretty clean for a crime scene. 

He grumbles as he looks around. There is the doused fire pit sitting in the center, the ground has obvious shallow marks in them indicating where the other three had rested. The single tent remains standing, though there’s drag marks. Their friend’s must have tried to help them. 

With the blade of his lance he peels open the tent. A grimace, the smell is rancid. Pinching his nose he looks inside. He can see the marks in the ground of a skirmish, a black stain from where the man was killed. The body however is missing. Did they bring them to town to get them healed?

This isn’t what Sylvain is used to, still. It’s much cleaner, more precise. He makes note of it when he heads back to town. Despite what he’s seen his mind is elsewhere.

Getting back it begins to slip into that cool night. Sylvain finds his ears and nose burn from the cold. Again the town is dark with all the doors shut. He hopes he hasn’t missed the time to head back into the inn, especially since he’d like to go visit Felix quickly.

He puts Biscuit back in the stable before heading to the town. He can check on the inn and maybe beg for the favour before heading up, but no, as he passes by he can see the lights have dimmed. Everyone’s either at home sleeping or in the church, again. That’s one thing that’ll get on his nerves if he decides to live here!

Luckily he’s still got his bag of stuff on him.. Maybe he can put the pressure on Felix, the guy is being really unreasonable. Wanting Sylvain to visit but having the most impossible time slot to accommodate.

Again he heads to the tower. 

\----------

This time, _This time_ Felix is ready. Thanks to his heightened senses he can hear the groan of the wood on stone as Sylvain enter the tower. The smell of the man begins to bounce off the halls as the warmth in his blood feels like a light. He can see the dimness of the room fade as the candle comes up.

This time he is prepared to see Sylvain. He’s full, and will be full for the week. There’s no chance for mistakes. He will do as he plans this time. He will confess to Sylvain. 

He has a few seconds to prepare before they make it up the stairs. Fixing his hair to be an organized mess, lighting a candle this time so he can be seen. He does his best to lean on the window, give himself a cool and relaxed position. Arms and legs crossed, a side glance when the door opens.

Then they enter the room. Opening the door with at brilliant smile of their, that face wide. “I’m back!” He announces in a cheerful way. 

And Felix crumbles. 

His arms unfold. A hand raises. “You are. Unbelievable.” He sounds unamused though the look on Sylvain’s face would suggest otherwise. 

“Nice, you actually put the lights on for me.” He places his things down at the door this time instead of downstairs. He moves to sit close by his friend. 

Unlike yesterday, there is no push to be too far apart. Felix sits looking out the window and Sylvain sits looking into the room. Felix seems to roll his eyes into the back of his skull. He’s amused with Sylvain’s determination in being so close, though he’s always been like that. Hasn’t he. Felix keeps his pointed gaze out to the woods. He tries to search with what to say and how to put it gently. His new lifestyle certainly is a huge secret that he doesn’t want to just let out into the wild. 

While he searches for words, Sylvain decides to knock shoulders. “Today I tried to come by earlier,” He starts, “I was told you were asleep.” Felix tenses, though he doesn’t move away from Sylvain. He’s more in control today and doesn’t mind the familiarity. When’s the last time someone was this close and lived?“

“I heard. You accepted to help some strangers within seconds of arriving. Something you should have left to the guards.” It is none of your business, his words same to say. It was his own mistake, it’s not up to Sylvain to fix it. 

“I know.” Sylvain laughs a bit, “But they were screaming at your day staff. They looked absolutely lost, I couldn’t help myself.” Typical Sylvain offering to help. 

There’s a pause. Felix mumbles a thanks, which has Sylvain light up. “What did you say?”

“I said _Thank you_. You did help.” They were much more relaxed than when he normally wakes up. 

It makes Sylvain proud of that. His heart races slightly, which Felix hears through his chest. He can sense the pride now. “Anytime.” He chimes, “I was actually thinking about sticking around for a bit too. It sounds like everyone in the tower has their hands full. Maybe I could pitch in.”

“Why would you want to do that?” This town is not the kind Sylvain would want to be living in. After the irreparable damage Felix has inflicted on it

Sylvain has no shame when he speaks, “I just like hanging out with you. It’s been a while, Felix, five years. I haven’t really heard about you since we all split up.” A long five years. Sure, he was busy, but that’s still a huge gap. He asked around but no one had a clue.. And he was too afraid to go down himself. He’s glad all along Felix didn’t hate him.

“I can’t stop you.” Which sounds more like a yes than anything else. 

He didn’t anticipate Sylvain coming even closer now. An arm wrapped around Felix now as he gives him a side hug. “Aw, thanks. I’ll be a big help, I promise.”

It’s sudden and for a brief moment but they get to sit in silence. The embrace doesn’t stop. Usually, it’s Felix who shoves Sylvain off, or at least yells at him. Today though they sit in silence. Happy to see each other once again. Felix keeps his gaze out the window while Sylvain leans his head against the other. Now looking down cast at the floor. He’s exhausted from the late hour and comfortable. Felix has always been the perfect height to lean on. 

“I haven’t heard much of the other two.” Sylvain mumbles, still pressed so close to Felix. “They’ve been busy the last two years. I have too.”

Felix looks back a bit but he cannot see Sylvain’s face. He wouldn’t mind reaching for his hand if he could. Something deep inside himself stops him, “They send letters. Sometimes.” Not like Sylvain’s. 

“Do you write back?” He asks, wondering if he was the only one to be ghosted so horribly. The thought evaporates when he can feel Felix shake his head no. “I didn’t think so. I think.. I’ve missed you the most. I still remember our parents making our little play dates.” He says in an almost teasing tone.

A groan leaves Felix, a contradicting smile left unseen, “Don’t get me started.”

“This close to a window’s ledge. I’d never.” Sylvain laughs as he slowly slides off the hug. He looks beyond the window with Felix now. The woods seem so empty tonight despite yesterday’s violence. The cool darkness is very draining for Sylvain who had spent all day looking for answers.

It makes him yawn. “Oh. That reminds me.” Sylvain sounds like a light just went off. “I missed the time to enter the inn. The town’s got a weird curfew.” 

“And?” Felix doesn’t like where this is going. He can feel a question coming that he doesn’t want to answer. Like why the town’s doors shut early.

Instead what comes out of Sylvain’s mouth is a plea. “Last night, because a certain someone didn’t want me here, I had to sleep on a church pew. It really messed up my back, I’m getting old.”

“You slept in the church.” Felix asks, looking at Sylvain with a bit of a dead pan look. He can no longer enter them, which would mean Sylvain would have been safe from him. He would have also been locked off from him in case he was in danger. 

“I know! Normally they don’t let suave men like me do such a thing but the Priestess lady seemed to have a soft spot for the roguishly handsome.” He says about himself and Felix could almost taste the faux sparkles. Sylvain then clasps both his hands together, begging his friend, “This isn’t fair. I can’t have her think I’m a charity case. Come on, felix. You gotta let me sleep here.”

Felix opens his mouth to say no then clutches his jaw shut. Tonight Sylvain could be safe... But if he gets used to it and he doesn’t explain himself, he could end up hurting Sylvain. Or worse, killing him. He clutches his fist and lets out the loud grunt. _ “Fine.” _ Though he doesn’t.. want to do this. He gets up, his high heeled boots make a click on the ground. A single hand has enough strength to lift Sylvain to his feet.

“Oh whoa!” He wasn’t expecting to be manhandled! Sylvain raises to his feet, a panicked little peep leaves him, did he upset Felix too much, “Don’t throw me out the window.”

“What. No, I” Felix lets go. He could see why Sylvain would think that but he can’t help but shake his head, “I was going to bring you to my room. Don’t get any stupid ideas.”

Stupid ideas from sharing a bed? Sylvain? Why he would never. 

There’s a grin on Sylvain’s face again. A quick recovery. He holds in saying a horribly lewd joke in order to get this right to sleep in the bed. It’ll sit in his gut and fester. Sylvain fixes himself, looking shocked. “Wow, you’ve gotten a lot stronger in the last few years.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t skip training. Now come on. I have a job I should be attending.” Felix grumbles as he makes a short pass at Sylvain’s lack of work ethic when it comes to training. He then grabs his candle, for Sylvain’s sake, and begins down the stairs. 

Sylvain follows behind him as they descend, “Actually, speaking of jobs, you should get someone to clean up this place. It’s not in the best of shape, Felix. I could spend tomorrow fixing that up for you if you’d like.”

“Why bother.” Felix doesn’t touch it. It should be up to the guardsmen. 

“Well you’re lacking like snacks and food around here too, Felix. I did bring you some House Gautier cheese and wine if you ever want a snack break.” He chimes, trying to offer Felix a meal. They are still rather slim despite such a show of strength. For a while he’s thought only Dimitri was able to do this kind of thing. 

Felix hasn’t eaten anything in five years. He shoots Sylvain a glance and then looks forward. “I eat on my own time. I’ll leave it for the guards, they’ll appreciate it more.” The secret softy says.

Sylvain didn’t want to share it with strangers... But it’ll help him get closer to them, thus make staying here a little longer easier, right? “Alright, then.”

They reach the bottom floor. Sylvain knows he shouldn’t think this but it was kind of exciting how Felix’s heels echoed the whole way down. He can’t help but feel a little bit excited by being lead down. Unfortunately, being a Vampire, Felix can sense this excitement. 

It makes him feel afraid. He’s longed to admit himself to Sylvain these last five years and he’s become more afraid. Will Sylvain let him stop his beating heart and join him in the night? He finds himself anxious despite no longer having the heart to rapidly beat. Pulling out the key from his pocket made him worse still. He doesn’t like people being in his room. Even if it is Sylvain.

The doors are heavy to open and Felix heads over to his night table. He lights the candle there with the one he has as Sylvain puts his stuff down. Immediately shedding of his armour. It stops Felix in his tracks to see the pieces come off and reveal Sylvain’s underclothes. He stares as they prepare themself for bed without even realizing he’s been looking so heavily. 

Sylvain pretends not to notice. The armour is placed neatly in the corner and he sifts through his bag for his night wear. This he will change into later. He doesn’t say anything about the staring even if it excites him more. He knows Felix would only be upset if he pointed out how they look at him. Once everything’s down he lets out an Oh, and pulls out the letter from Felix’s father. “Your dad handed me this.” 

Annoyed, narrowed eyes look at it, then his head tilts. “Put it on my desk. And if you value you life, don’t touch anything else.”

“Touchy...” Sylvain rudely teases back as he places the letter on the desk. It sits neatly in the center and he figures Felix will just simply read it when he’s not around. He heads over to Felix and the bed. His white dress shirt appears wrinkled in the candlelight, his black pants slightly restrictive. For a moment they look eye to eye and Sylvain thinks once again. What would the harm be in just kissing his friend? His eyes invite him in and still seem to glow in this light. Has Felix's eyes always been this orange? 

Felix waits for something himself. He stares at them, unblinking. He waits for Sylvain to make a move because he certainly wont.

He reaches up but a weakness comes over him. A fear. He places a hand on Felix’s shoulder, “Wake me up a little early, okay? We could spar together.” A critical failure on Sylvain’s heart. He hopes at least his words will bode well for Felix. 

The other looks to that hand on his shoulder and then back at Sylvain. He doesn’t move it. “I’d like that. Now go to sleep.”

“Okay, Felix. Thanks again for this.” For letting him sleep here. For even just inviting him at all. This really made Sylvain’s year. Seeing his friend again is the greatest of gifts. He lets go of them and sits on the bed, letting out a big yawn. “I’ll see you later..”

“Yes. Rest well.”


End file.
